Colours and Casts
by LindsayQ
Summary: The life of a dad is never boring, that was for sure.


**_Title_**: Colours and casts  
**_Author_**: Supesfan88  
**_Rating_**: G  
**_Summary_**: Dean's life was never boring, even with kids.  
**_A/N_**: This goes with another AU I made called "_A Friend in Need_" and this is totally unbeta-ed I thought of it at 8:00 AM and finished it just a couple minutes ago.  
**_Disclaimer:_** Dean and Sam aren't mine, but everyone else is.

* * *

Dean hadn't realized there was as many first when it came to raising children as he had already experienced in the short near decade he'd been a dad. Firsts were ok, but not seconds, thirds, fourths, and fifths. You knew it was getting bad when the nurses at the emergency room actually knew you and yours by your first names. As he stared down at his five-year-old son, obliviously swinging his thin legs back and fourth on the chair, he smiled. Just like his dad. The kid had had more casts on various extremities over the past four and half years than his sister had in her seven years.

"What colour do you think they let me pick this time, daddy?"

He jumped slightly and looked down again when he realized Noah had said something. "What?"

"What colour do you think they let me pick this time? For my cast."

His hand covered the circumference of his sons head as he mussed his hair. "I don't know, buddy, you had ever colour wrap before. Green twice. I don't think there is any other colours."

The five-year-old looked up at his dad with big deep blue eyes. "What about pink?"

"What about pink?"

"I haven't had pink 'fore." Noah shook his head. "But Beth said not to get pink because pink is for girly girls and I'm a boy." He pointed at himself.

Dean smirked. Elizabeth, a tom boy in the making if he'd ever saw one…wore jeans year round, never dresses. Played with G.I. Joes and Hot wheels, melted any and every Barbie she had ever received. All he done was watch her so she wouldn't hurt herself; he had made her clean the microwave herself.

"But if pinks for girly girls, daddy, then why does Uncle Sam always wear one? You know the one with the baby alligator on it."

"'Cause Noah," Dean pursed his lips and bit his tongue to keep himself from telling his five-year-old son his uncle wore pinks shirts because he often shopped at "Fairies'R'Us". Instead he decided to go the 'different' route. "Your uncle likes to wear stuff other people," –Sane people- "wouldn't think to wear. He doesn't like to waste things."

"I told him he was wearing a girl's shirt once." The boy nodded, turned his head and suddenly turned in on himself as he began to remember. "Laughed at me and started talkin 'bout sumthin called "'qual opportunities." Dean rolled his eyes. Trust Sam to start spouting crap off about that…to a five-year-old no less, he liked getting em when they were young. That he was guaranteed they would actually listen to him and not call him a nut job to his face…like he had himself on several occasions. Christmas for example.

Noah turned his eyes on his dad again. "Then told me to ask you 'bout the laundry." His face scrunched up as his little mind tried to understand what his uncle had meant by such a request.

Dean took one look at his son then turned away and snarled. Uncle Sam was a dead man.

"What did he mean, daddy?"

"Ah…" he shifted uncomfortably in the moulded plastic chair beneath his butt and shrugged. "Back when your uncle and I use to take road trips," because they were still road trips to this five-year-old and not demon hunts. "We would take turns doing the laundry. Once your dad got stuck with a big load and I didn't want to wait for all of it to get done so I shoved it all in-"he shook his head and groaned then looked down at Noah again and sighed. "I turned everything pink because I didn't realize I had thrown a red shirt in with white things…"

The five-year-old grinned. "Red and white make pink, daddy?"

"Yup," he flashed a grin back. Extremely happy that the five-year-old had decided to forgo ribbing him about the accident and go on to something else, something he didn't have to murder Sam for. "Yellow and blue make green, red and blue make purple-"

"Noah Winchester."

Dean took one look at the nurse in the doorway and smirked. A newbie. Fun. "C'mon, Noah, time to go get your arm fixed."

Noah jumped off the chair and grabbed his dad's hand. Dean squeezed it then loosened his grip and began walking. Emergency room talks. What would he do without them?


End file.
